


The Sin of the Fathers

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some scenes from Braska's pilgrimage... and one from Yuna's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sin of the Fathers

Nobody really felt like talking.

Evening was fast falling in Kilika, and Braska, Jecht and Auron had spent the better part of the day hiking through jungle. Braska had obtained the trust and respect of the fire aeon, Ifrit, but he seemed tired, and not quite himself. It was, Auron told himself, simply the strain and effort of the trials and the prayers. Yet… now and then, Auron was sure he could see flickering lights, almost akin to flames in eyes of the Summoner he was guarding. It was as if each aeon, following the acceptance of Braska’s prayers, had taken over a small part of his heart and soul.

Auron shivered at the thought, and chided himself. Braska was no mere shell, no vessel to simply carry these aeons to the fight with Sin. He was stronger than that. The thought remained that a part of Braska would have had to have accepted the aeon as much as the aeon accepted him, however.

He was roused from his reverie by Braska’s soft voice asking Jecht something.

Jecht was holding something, and frowning.

“…It was just drifting along the pier,” Jecht said, playing with the arms of what Auron realized was a doll. “I thought maybe one of the local kids might have dropped it.”

Braska shook his head. “That debris in the water isn’t from around here,” he said thoughtfully. “You only have to look at the type of wood and the way it has been crafted.”

Jecht grimaced. “Sin, huh?”

“Yes,” Braska nodded. “Luca – the city we visited a few short days ago, do you remember Jecht?” When Jecht looked up, Braska went on. “The city was attacked by Sin last year. A lot of the debris got washed out to sea. After a while, it finds its way to shore, either around the mainland, or out here on the islands.”

“So all of this… it might have once belonged to someone?”

“Some of it,” Braska answered. “It’s probably mostly from civic buildings, however.”

Jecht nodded, playing with the small doll in his hands. A young boy approached and tugged on the fabric of Braska’s robe, distracting him.

Auron watched as Braska smiled down to the young lad, clearly pushing his feelings to one side. He noted Jecht frowning. The man from Zanarkand had a son back at home. He wondered if that was the source of Jecht’s troubles?

The young lad gave Braska a couple of potions and a pouch with money – a gift for his pilgrimage. Braska thanked him, and bowed. As the boy went to leave, Jecht called him back.

“My lord,” Auron said at last, summoning up his own voice. “The ship will be departing soon…”

Braska nodded to him.

Auron glanced over to Jecht, upon whom Braska’s attention was fixed. The blitzball player was kneeling, offering the doll to the young boy. The boy bowed deeply to him and Jecht smiled, ruffling his hair. As the boy dashed away with his new toy (Auron noted that the boy passed it to a girl waiting for him further up the pier), Jecht stood.

“These kids,” Jecht said, canting his head as if to point to the children further up the pier. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

Auron heard Braska made a soft noise.

“I don’t know, Jecht,” Braska said. “They deserve better than the fear they live in every day, though… if I can give them that freedom…”

“I hear ya,” Jecht replied.

The ship horn interrupted them, their last warning to board the ferry if they wanted to be in Besaid for morning.

***

The sea was calm as the ferry crossed the sea that night. The wooden hull groaned softly as the paddles guided the ship to its next destination. There were very few passengers, meaning it was much quieter both above and below decks.

However, this quiet also meant that disagreements between a Summoner and a Guardian could be heard all the more clearly, even if they tried to keep their voices down!

Such expressions of concern weren’t unusual. It was just that these expressions of concern tended to be about Jecht – who had very nearly walked in on these expressions of concern. He had been just about to open the door when he heard Auron’s raised voice.

“My Lord, please…”

Jecht halted. If there was an argument going on, he didn’t want to be part of it.

“I wouldn’t normally suggest that Jecht is right, Lord Braska…”

Although maybe, just maybe, he might be interesting in finding out what was going on in the head of the steely-gazed warrior monk.

“… But you both have children… you are both fathers…”

Braska made a soft humming sound.

“My Lord, you know as well as I do what is ahead. If we make it to Zanarkand… if you get the final aeon…”

“What do you propose, Auron? That another Summoner make the sacrifice and leave behind a family of their own?”

“I’m just asking you to think about Yuna!” Auron was starting to shout. “She’s too young to be on her own. Then there is the matter of Jecht’s son! What will become of him?”

Jecht felt his stomach lurch. It was a thought that had troubled him frequently throughout the pilgrimage. While the boy had his mother, and he had never gotten along with his son… Still, he wondered… Would the kid be all right if he never managed to make it home? He had started to hope that maybe he could make amends, learn to understand the boy a bit…

Braska sighed. “I… will admit that I have my concerns, also. Yuna… she’s strong… but if I never see her again, I at least want to know that she will be safe.”

Auron murmured something, and Braska gave a short laugh.

“I’ll think of something.”

Silence fell, and then –

“My Lord, I apologize. I shouldn’t have raised my voice to you like that.”

Braska’s voice was warm, gentle… and slightly amused. “I think sometimes, I need you to keep me – to keep us – in line, Auron. Don’t apologize.”

Auron scuffed at the floor. “If you could please excuse me, my Lord… I think I might go for a walk up on deck. Perhaps some air will clear my head.”

“Of course,” Braska replied. “Don’t forget to sleep, though.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Jecht heard Auron’s distinctive footfalls moving towards the door. If the po-faced warrior found him hanging around outside the door, it would certainly only aggravate him. With that thought in mind, Jecht quickly dashed across the hall and up the stairs out onto the deck. It was, he thought, better to stay out of Auron’s way.

***

As the sun rose over the horizon, the island of Besaid came into view. An hour or two later, the boat paddled into dock by the pier. The air blowing in from the sea was refreshingly cool, although the sun was yet to reach its zenith. However, the island was still fairly warm in spite of this. A few ruins could be seen scattered about the cliff tops. Much like the rest of Spira, the island had been home to a people whose lives revolved around machines, until Sin came, destroying the machina and the civilizations that had grown up around it.

Once the boat was securely tied, the ramp was lowered, allowing the few passengers to leave the boat. A priest from the temple greeted Braska, Auron and Jecht at the pier. The priest cast a curious but critical glance at Jecht when he didn’t perform the prayer gesture.

Further up the beach, there was a narrow passageway leading to a rough path that seemed to have evolved naturally over the top of old ruins. It raised up to a cliff walkway with grassy verges, a few trees scattered here and there. Somewhere nearby, chocobos could be heard squeaking to their partners, the young crying out to their parents. A few bridges lead past and under waterfalls, the cool spray comforting in the rising warmth of the morning.

Eventually, they came to a promontory that overlooked the village.

“This is Besaid Village,” said the priest. “It is small, but the temple at the head of the village will welcome you.”

“I thank you, Father,” Braska bowed. “It is my hope to pray to the fayth.”

The priest nodded slowly. “As a summoner on the road, I am sure the fayth will permit you an audience.” He glanced down to the village, silence falling. “In the meantime, I must return to the temple. Please, make yourselves at home, and we shall meet again soon.”

“Thank you again for everything, Father,” Braska said, bowing. Auron also bowed, while Jecht stood by awkwardly, staring down at the village.

The priest returned the bow gesture, and then turned, heading down the slope to the village below. Braska surveyed the area, taking in the sights and sounds as the three men stood in silence.

“This is our last stop before Mount Gagazet, and then Zanarkand,” Braska said at last. “Are you ready – Jecht? Auron?”

“You bet,” Jecht nodded. “With you all the way.”

Auron nodded stiffly.

“Then on we go.”

***

It didn’t take long to reach the small village from the promontory. It looked even smaller close up than it had from up above. Per their uneasy agreement, Auron was recording their entrance and initial view of the village for the benefit of Jecht’s son.

“Smallest heap of huts I ever seen!”

Braska laughed softly. “Now that seems like a nice place to live,” he said, nodding to the wood-and-leaf huts. He glanced around, and murmured a soft humming noise. “Auron?”

“My Lord?” Auron perked upon being addressed.

“When this is over… could you bring Yuna here?” Braska said. To Auron, his expression seemed to soften, along with his voice. Was this, he wondered, the proposed solution to the problem of Yuna growing up alone? “I want her to lead a life far away from this conflict.”

“You have my word,” Auron replied. It wasn’t the best solution, he thought, but looking around – Besaid seemed almost isolated from the rest of Spira, and perhaps that would be at least partly beneficial. He noticed young children playing – children the same age as Yuna. Maybe she would make friends here? “I will bring her here.”

Braska smiled. “Thank you, Auron. You are a good friend.”

“What are you guys doin’? Let’s go!” Jecht called. He was standing up by a circle in the centre of the village, waving to them. “I’m so hungry I could eat a shoopuf whole!”

Braska let loose a soft laugh. Auron shook his head. It was typical for Jecht to be so self-centred and ignorant, he thought. Although having known the man since the beginning of their journey, he was beginning to wonder how much of it was a façade, a mask to hide his own concerns, and how much of it truly was simple arrogance.

“Sorry,” Braska said, smiling. “Well, let’s go then.”

***

“I’ll think of something.”

Those had been the magic words of the pilgrimage, uttered many times in response to the problems that arose from their journey. Braska had spoken them of finding a home for Yuna. Jecht had spoken them of finding a way to stop Sin. They had been the last words of the man from Zanarkand before Yunalesca had cruelly cut him down and resurrected him as a fayth to summon in the shape of a final aeon.

The rage – at himself, and at Yunalesca – was all that kept Auron from giving up as he descended Mount Gagazet on all fours. The final aeon… it might have been Jecht’s last gift to Braska, but he refused to believe that the beast had been crafted from Jecht’s soul. That beast had stopped Sin – even if only temporarily – and then turned on Braska, its master. Braska had aimed one last shot of magic at the creature. In its final throes, it swept a fatal blow at the Summoner, killing him. Auron was left alone. He had failed the man he had been trying to protect. He had failed to find another way. Why couldn’t the creature have taken his life instead?

Of course, he had initially taken out his blazing fury and self-hatred on Yunalesca. That hadn’t gone well, and she had coolly knocked him aside with a blast of magic that had wiped much of his energy from his body. To add insult to injury, Auron had also been ambushed several times by fiends. While he had little bother cutting them down to size, after Yunalesca’s magical smackdown, he had admittedly gotten careless. One fiend got a little too close.

He had been trailing blood down the snowy slopes of Mount Gagazet as he crawled along. His vision felt as if someone had placed blinkers around his eyes, narrowing his view to slim tunnels clouded with stars. His heart was pounding, and he could feel himself breathing heavily with the effort.

It couldn’t end like this. He wouldn’t let it end like this.

Auron still needed to find Yuna and take her to Besaid…!

He gave a soft, bitter laugh. He had failed in that too. He was a damned fool.

At last, he collapsed in the snow. What little strength he had was ebbing away. Maybe, Auron thought, if he could just rest for a while…

He didn’t know how long he had been laying there when a pair of furry feet approached him. The being lifted him effortlessly, cradling him. A potion was pressed to his lips. It didn’t help much, but it roused Auron enough to recognize that he was being helped by a Ronso. With this realization came the memory of Auron’s promise to Braska.

“Please… Take me… to Bevelle… there’s a little girl… Yuna… she’s the daughter of Braska…” Auron’s teeth chattered as he began to feel the cold inching through his innards. “I promised to take her to Besaid… far away…”

“Kimahri listens,” the Ronso growled softly. “Kimahri will honour this request.”

“Thank you,” Auron whispered. The Ronso began to carry him down the mountain. It wasn’t long before the effects of the potion began to wear off. His consciousness faded, and soon, darkness took him.

***

The Mi’ihen Highroad Travel Agency was alert, full of nervous energy after receiving a report of a massive fiend being on the loose. It was said that the fiend had a taste for chocobos, which had worried the young female chocobo-keeper at the agency.

Auron kept watch from the doorway of the agency. Yuna and Tidus were sitting on the grass near a cliff, chatting. The boy was asking questions. Yuna was doing her best to answer them. Just like his father, the boy had thrown more than a few curveballs. Yuna had fumbled to answer a couple of them, realizing then that there were things she hadn’t thought about, things she didn’t know.

Auron, of course, could have filled them in, and yet – this was their journey, and they should discover the answers for themselves, he felt. Perhaps in doing so, he might be able to uphold his promises to Jecht and Braska, his determination from all those years ago to find another way rising up like a bubble inside of him. Perhaps these two might be the ones to finally break the spiral of death?

“But Yuna,” Tidus said, flailing his arms around, “how are you supposed to beat something that big?”

“The final summoning,” Yuna said, gazing out over the sunset-tinted sea. “It’s the only way to defeat Sin. The _only_ way.” She glanced down to her hands, adding, “with it, we can call the final aeon. That’s the goal of the pilgrimage.”

Auron grimaced. It was, of course, the lie that had been taught by the temple to every summoner and believer since the dawn of Yevon’s rule. He and Braska had believed this lie too, and now… He shook his head imperceptibly.

“The Fayth of the Final Summoning lies waiting in the far north, to greet summoners who complete their pilgrimage..." Yuna made a bowing movement, the prayer gesture appropriated from Zanarkand’s blitzball fanatics. "At the world's edge... in Zanarkand.”

Auron didn’t need to see Tidus’s face to know that the young man’s eyes had widened with surprise as he startled.

“In Zanarkand?” Tidus asked, incredulous.

Auron snorted softly, finally moving in towards the pair. It was worth heading off this conversation now.

“She means the ruins of a city destroyed a thousand years ago.”

Tidus glanced back to him, furrowing his brows as if trying to comprehend this, and then he returned his gaze to Yuna. “You’re sure it’s ruins?”

Yuna nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

“You’ll see it for yourself soon enough,” said Auron. He scanned the horizon, still watching for this monstrous fiend. “Yuna, come back inside.”

The young woman smiled and nodded to him, a gesture almost perfectly identical to Braska’s response upon being given an order. She would heed it, Auron knew, and returned to surveying the area. As he walked away, he heard Yuna speak up.

"You will go with us... to Zanarkand?"

"Yeah. I'll go," Tidus responded quietly, seeming almost dejected, deflated from hearing the truth of Zanarkand’s fall. "I'll go to Zanarkand... to see it with my own eyes."

Jecht had said something very similar, Auron reflected as he patrolled the area. It was a promise both men from Zanarkand would keep.

**END**


End file.
